Weakness
by quoththeblackbird
Summary: Tris is sick and needs help. Tobias provides comfort. Feelings are explored. Canon, set during Divergent. Fluffy Sick!Fic


A/N: So I'm back after a looooong hiatus. Sorry folks. And I'm into Divergent now. This is a random fluffy sick!fic one shot that takes place toward the middle/end of Divergent, sometime after Tris and Tobias become "official."

I feel exhausted and shaky as I enter the cafeteria. I make for my usual spot next to Christina. She is leaning across the table talking to Will. They both look up at me as I make to sit down. I have to pause for a moment before I swing my legs over the bench; my body feels so heavy. I gently toss one leg, then the other, and ease myself onto the hard seat.

"What's up?" Christina asks. She raises her eyebrows at my sweat stained baggy T-shirt and glistening face.

I open my mouth to answer, but nothing comes. I'm still winded from my session with the punching bag. I swallow hard and clear my throat. "Just training," I say. I look down at my hands folded on top of the table. They're still red and sweaty. I move them to my lap and try to dry them on my pants.

"Why?" Christina inquires, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "Wasn't a morning in your fear landscape grueling enough?" Will nods, expressing his agreement.

I shrug and swallow again. My mouth feels dry, but there is thick mucus at the back of my throat. I reach for a glass of water and wrap my hands around it. The condensation just makes them wet again, but the cool glass feels good on my skin. I take my now cool, damp hands and press them to my face, which is damp and hot.

"You ok?" says Will. I uncover my face. He and Christina are staring at me.

"Yeah," I say, "I'm fine." I take a sip of water. It feels nice and refreshing, but does nothing to get rid of the sticky clog in my throat.

"You don't look so good," Christina observes. "How long did you spend working out?"

I ponder this, and I realize that I don't exactly know. I finished with my fear landscape sometime mid-morning, then wandered the halls thinking and seething until after lunch, which I had skipped because I hadn't felt like socializing. I have no idea what time it was when I decided to work out my frustration with the punching bag. "Couple hours, maybe?" I say. "Don't really know." I take another sip of water. I see Christina roll her eyes. I ignore her.

Will grabs a couple of tacos from a serving tray next to him and shoves them toward me. "You've gotta be starving. You need some protein."

I should be hungry, but I'm not. As a matter of fact, the idea of the greasy tacos is making me nauseous. I drink some more water, which actually isn't helping anything. I just feel sloshy now. "No, thanks," I say to Will, "I'm good." My voice is thin and weak.

"Like Hell you are," Christina interjects. "You're gonna pass out." She might be right. But I also feel like I might puke. Christina and Will both have eyes locked on me. I realize I'm going nowhere without eating something. I grudgingly unwrap one of the tacos and rip a piece off the top of the tortilla where it hasn't touched the seasoned filling. I chew and swallow it. The warm bread seems to merge with the glob of snot in my throat, making a huge lump that doesn't go down easily. I chug another sip of water and decide I'm done trying to eat.

I fold the foil back around my barely touched taco. Christina opens her mouth to say something, but I stand up from the table before she has a chance to speak. Dizziness threatens to overwhelm me, but I press the edge of the table with my hand. "I'm gonna go lay down," I say.

"Yeah, you look like shit," Christina says with her characteristic Candor inflection.

"Thanks," I mumble as I turn away from the table and leave the cafeteria.

The dizziness I felt earlier has settled into a steady hard throb behind my forehead. I don't want to go back to the dorms. I don't want to interact with anybody. Except maybe one person.

I make my way to Tobias's apartment. By the time I'm outside his door, I'm trembling. I might be cold, but I'm having a hard time determining what I'm feeling right now. Cold makes sense. The sweat stains on my shirt are still wet, and they're making frigid tender patches on my skin where the fabric touches me. I also might be nervous. Or…something else.

I knock on the door. "What?" I hear him say from inside.

"It's Tris. Can I come in?" I ask. My voice sounds awful. There's a little rustling and shuffling sound, then the door opens.

Tobias looks down at me for about a second before he asks, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I answer automatically. He shakes his head and gestures for me to come inside. Tobias sits on the end of his bed and pats the spot next to him. I sink onto the mattress. My legs are shaking, and I have goosebumps up my arms.

"Are you hurt? Did someone—" Tobias starts. I shake my head. The throbbing gets worse. "What's wrong?" He asks again.

"Just—" I have to stop and swallow. I really feel like I'm gong to vomit. "Don't feel good," I manage. I feel the blood drain from my face.

Tobias is quick to get the gist of the situation. He grabs the small trashcan from the corner of the room and gently sits down next to me again. I start gagging and bring up the water I drank back in the cafeteria. Tobias strokes my ponytail down my back as I throw up again. I try to spit out a long string of mucusy bile, but it sticks to my lip and dangles into the trashcan. I try to wipe it off with my fingers, but I'm shaking so hard I can barely find my mouth with my hand.

Tobias pulls a tissue out of his pocket and finishes cleaning off my face. I try to apologize. I open my mouth with the full intention of saying, "I'm sorry," but the only sound I can make is a breathy gasp. Tobias seems to think the sound mean I'm going to get sick again. "Ok," He whispers as he adjusts the trashcan in his lap. Tobias is right, but it's only a couple of dry heaves.

"It's ok," he murmurs, his hand providing warm pressure on my upper back. I'm breathing heavily and feel like I'm going to pass out. I carefully raise my head to make eye contact with Tobias. "Done?" he asks. I nod. He puts the trashcan on the floor and gently wraps his arm around my waist. "Come here," Tobias says softly. He pulls me to my feet and supports most of my diminutive weight into the apartment's tiny bathroom.

I grab the sink with both hands to keep myself upright. I see myself in the mirror. I am so pale. Not just my face, but my neck and arms too. My eyes are red, and my hairline glistens with fresh clammy sweat. I use a cup on the edge of the sink to rinse the horrible taste out of my mouth.

Tobias sweeps in with a damp washcloth. He cleans off my face, removing all traces of sick and perspiration. Tobias tosses the cloth down in the sink and places his large, calloused hand on my forehead. "I think you have a fever," he says.

I believe him. I ache so much. I am finally able to force out words. "Sorry," I choke out.

"No," Tobias says. "It's ok." He pulls me around to face him and embraces me. I nestle my pounding head into his chest. "It's going to be ok," Tobias repeats. He rubs my back, hitting the sweat stains down my spine. I shiver as the coldness touches my tender flesh.

"Here, let me get you something else to wear," Tobias says. I sink down onto the closed toilet as he goes back into the bedroom. I rest my elbows on my knees and cup my face in my hands. I feel pathetic and small. How did I get so sick? Is this all the result of working out too long without eating? But it can't be. I have a fever. If I've got a bug, I hope I'm not about to pass it on…

He comes back in with one of his T-shirts and a pair of black jersey knit boxers. "Do you need help?" Tobias asks. I shake my head. I don't care how weak I am right now. Puking in front of him was embarrassing enough; I'm not letting Tobias see me naked…not yet.

Tobias understands. "I'll be right here," he says, gesturing just outside the bathroom door.

"Thanks," I say. My throat is still very rough. After Tobias leaves the bathroom, I strip, throwing my gross clothes into the corner. Tobias's clothes are huge on me, and I feel strange to be wearing his underwear. It feels very intimate, more so than I feel completely comfortable with right now. But I don't have much of a choice if I don't want to hike back to the dorms for a change of clothes, and I am definitely not doing that. My head hurts so badly that passing out or retching again both seem possible.

Once I'm dressed and fairly sure I can walk, I leave the bathroom. Tobias is right outside the door. He wordlessly embraces me. I wrap my shaking arms around his waist. "Come lay down," he says, guiding me to the bed. It occurs to me that this is what I had intended to do when I first left the cafeteria. That feels like a long time ago. It seems like a lot has happened since them.

I lie down on the bed and snuggle the covers around my body. Now that I'm horizontal, I am aware of just how badly my entire body aches. Tobias slips between the sheets on the other side of the bed. I roll from my back to my side and he spoons me, arm draped protectively over my shoulders. He feels my forehead again. "Tris," Tobias sighs. "It'll be ok. Just sleep now."

Tobias's warm chest eases the ache of my back. My eyelids begin to droop. "Thank you," I whisper.

"Just sleep," he repeats. And in the softest whisper, "I love you, Tris."

I am awake just long enough to murmur thickly, "Love you too."

**END**

A/N: Please read and review! And there absolutely need to be more Divergent sick!fics out there. I challenge you to write one too!


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